


i'm here for a funeral

by uhhuhhoney



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Hook-Up, M/M, Rimming, do not expect anything besides sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 06:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12721347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhhuhhoney/pseuds/uhhuhhoney
Summary: Doyoung – I'm here for a funeral :/Johnny – Oh I'm sorryJohnny – My cock is throbbing for you





	i'm here for a funeral

**Author's Note:**

> only true uhhuhhoney stans remember this classic
> 
> this is a fic that was originally seventeen (jicheol) but since i can't keep a fic up on this website for more than 10 seconds i removed it. my friends asked me to change the pairing. here it is.
> 
> (this was based off a grindr screenshot that I can no longer find because I wrote this almost two years ago) EDIT: thank you SO much to youaremysky for finding [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/BKWaHALBUId/)
> 
> enjoy and please ignore any mistakes because i can't take this story seriously enough to properly edit it and it's very old

Doyoung isn't really expecting his phone to go off in the middle of the funeral. He'd put it on silent, sure, but it still vibrates against his thigh annoyingly. He _really_ isn't in the mood to talk to anyone. Next to him, Jaehyun looks over curiously, but he ignores his glance and pulls his phone out of his pocket anyway. It's not like they were friends with who died – it was Taeyong's aunt, or something, and they were shoved in the back of the room, so it doesn't really matter, right?

 _Johnny – Haven't seen you in this area before_  

It's not a question. Also, it's a _Grindr message_ , and Doyoung feels weird opening it. A look at the guy's profile tells Doyoung he's attractive enough, but there's no way he'd be able to sneak out of a fucking funeral to hook up with someone, so he responds subtly.

_Doyoung – I'm here for a funeral :/_

The response is almost instantaneous, and it makes him choke on his own tongue.

_Johnny – Oh I'm sorry_

_Johnny – My cock is throbbing for you_

Jaehyun looks over his shoulder, then, and snorts almost too loudly. “Shut up,” Doyoung hisses, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tries to decide on what to say. “How do I even reply to that?”

“ _'Can I come over?'_ ” Jaehyun says, as if it was blatantly obvious, and Doyoung considers it. The funeral has been happening for what feels like forever, and he hates being inside churches – it makes him so uncomfortable. He knows fully well that Jaehyun would do the same thing if he was in this situation, so he types out a response.

 

_Doyoung – I can leave if you want me to_

_Johnny – You're a good boy. I like that_

He can feel his face heat up and he stands abruptly, trying to make sure nobody is looking at him. “Tell Taeyong it was an emergency,” he whispers to Jaehyun, who only grins at him. “Don't give me that look.”

“Go,” Jaehyun orders, practically shoving him toward the door. Doyoung walks quickly, his footsteps barely loud enough to hear over whoever is speaking now, and he leaves the church with almost too much ease.

_Doyoung – Address?_

* * *

There's a brief period between Doyoung stepping into this random guy's house and him being shoved up against the wall where the guy offers him a shot of tequila. He accepts it gratefully, even though it's hardly ten in the morning, and then finds himself sandwiched between Johnny’s body and the kitchen wall.

Their lips are pressed together desperately, and it's almost _too_ sloppy, Doyoung’s tongue sliding into his mouth mere moments after meeting him. He tastes like whiskey and Doyoung wonders, briefly, if this guy has been awake _all damn night_ or if he's just a morning drinker.

Either way, he's looking to get fucked hard, and Johnny is already pretty promising. His hands slide over his chest, then he's unbuttoning his shirt, and Doyoung is impatient and half-hard.

He slides his shirt off once it's unbuttoned, knowing fully well it's going to be extremely wrinkled and everyone is going to know why he left the funeral early. “I've been hard since I saw your picture,” Johnny says, breathing hot air over Doyoung’s lips, and all Doyoung can think is _I need him in my mouth right fucking now_. He reaches down to unbutton Johnny’s jeans, but Johnny bats his hands away and does it instead, a blessing and a curse. Lost without anything to do with his hands, Doyoung tangles his fingers in Johnny’s hair and pulls him forward for another filthy kiss.

It's heavy and borderline gross as Doyoung realizes saliva is dripping down his chin, but he doesn't actually mind. Johnny kicks his jeans off and grabs Doyoung’s belt, but before he can do anything, Johnny is tugging him forward and down the hallway. “Can I suck you off?” Doyoung asks, although once Johnny’s bedroom door is shut behind them, he drops to his knees anyway.

Johnny nods and tilts his head back, hands running through Doyoung’s hair as he tugs his boxers down and breathes out over his cock.

He closes his mouth over the tip of Johnny's cock and drags his tongue through his slit, the response almost immediate. Johnny jerks forward, on his own accord or not, and he hits the back of Doyoung’s throat. He opens his mouth to stutter out an apology, but soon finds he doesn't need to when Doyoung’s muscles relax and he grips the back of his thighs to pull him closer.

“God, I can't wait to fuck you,” Johnny groans, head lolling forward so he can look down at Doyoung. Their gazes meet and Doyoung makes an indescribable noise low in the back of his throat, sending vibrations through Johnny’s dick, and he could come already if he wasn't so set on fucking this boy until he _cries_.

There's precome dripping down Doyoung's chin, along with his saliva, and his nose is going to start running soon if he doesn't pull away. He sucks hard one last time, Johnny's hips tilting forward with the feeling before he pulls his mouth off his dick. “You taste so good,” he says, almost too quietly for Johnny to hear, and then Doyoung is kissing along the length of him and nuzzling against his pelvis and Johnny is so, _so_ lucky. “How do you want me? On your bed?”

“Right here,” Johnny answers, pulling Doyoung's head back roughly so he can look down at him. It feels powerful, and Doyoung's lips are parted as he whimpers pitifully. “On your elbows.”

Doyoung waits until Johnny lets go of his hair to finish pulling off his clothes. Johnny drops his boxers, kicks them into the corner carelessly as he walks to the bedside table to find lube and a condom. He wants nothing more than to come in Doyoung, make him feel _everything_ , but it's messy and there's no way he's going to want to stay long enough to clean up. He shakes the idea from his head and settles back behind Doyoung, now leaning forward on his elbows so his ass is in the air. “God, you're so sexy,” Johnny says, setting the lube and condom on the floor so he can run his hands over Doyoung's ass. He grabs his hips and tugs him backward, kissing the small of his back. “Would you let me eat you out while I stretch you?”

“As if that's a fucking question,” Doyoung breathes out, ducking his head weakly when Johnny laughs. He hardly has time to prepare himself before Johnny's tongue is running over his rim, tracing his hole carefully, and he feels himself clench impulsively. Johnny's hands soon leave him, his tongue dragging over him almost teasingly as he opens the bottle of lube. “Your tongue feels fucking incredible,” Doyoung mutters as a sad attempt at dirty talk, but Johnny doesn't seem to mind how halfhearted it sounds; probably because it just inflated his ego more.

A finger is pressing into him a second later and Doyoung groans, digging his nails into the carpet and pressing back further with Johnny's hand. “You're awfully impatient,” Johnny says, as if – _as if_ he's trying to make Doyoung submit to him completely, apologize for being a brat and obey whatever he says. Doyoung doesn't say anything, his cock practically throbbing underneath him at this point, and then there are two fingers in him along with Johnny's fucking tongue.

“Holy fuck,” he moans, borderline helplessly. Doyoung falls from his elbows to his forearms, back arched as to keep a good angle for Johnny to keep going. It almost aches, but he can hardly recognize the dull pain when Johnny is licking into him like it's his fucking job now, his fingertips pressing against his prostate and making him jerk forward in surprise. Another moan leaves his mouth and he hates himself for being so goddamn loud, but it's not worth trying to hide, because whenever he moans, Johnny goes just a little bit faster. “I want your cock in me now, _please_ ,” he begs.

Johnny's fingers and tongue leave him and he's disappointed for a moment, but then he hears him opening the condom. Doyoung's nails dig harder into the carpet, fingers curling in an attempt to prepare himself, because Johnny is _thick_ and he hasn't actually bottomed in what feels like forever. After a moment, Johnny's cock is pressing against his rim and Doyoung huffs out a heavy breath. “I don't want to hurt you,” Johnny mutters, but he's pushing in already and Doyoung doesn't really care, anyway. He tilts his ass back more, trying to relax, and his eyes fly open when Johnny pushes the rest of the way in.

“Oh, fuck,” Doyoung chokes out. Johnny's cock is snug against his prostate, the pressure just constant enough for him to really feel it, and it's been fucking months since he felt like this. Johnny's hands grab his waist and his thumbs dig into his skin hard when he pulls back out slightly, waiting a second to thrust back in. “Fuck, Johnny, _fuck_ ,” he repeats.

It feels like ages before Johnny finally starts actually fucking him. Doyoung presses his cheek into the carpet, knowing fully well he'll get rug burn, and lets his eyes fall shut and his mouth fall open as Johnny fucks into his prostate continuously. “You feel so good,” Johnny says, voice low and raspy and _fuck_ , if Doyoung could come from just him talking. “God, you're so fucking tight. How long has it been?”

“Few months,” Doyoung manages, his voice sounding different to his own ears, but he ignores it. Johnny puts a hand on the small of his back and grinds into him, slower this time, so sensually that Doyoung feels like they're in some sort of porno together. It feels _so good_ , though, the pressure on his prostate hard and consistent and he's so, so fucking close at this point. “Touch me,” he groans, shifting to push his forehead into the floor instead. “Jerk me off, I'm close.”

Johnny complies, fisting Doyoung's cock quickly in time with his thrusts. It's almost too much, the feeling in Doyoung's lower stomach getting heavier and he feels like he could vomit with how badly he needs to come. “ _Fuck_ , I want you to come,” Johnny says, tone almost too serious, but it doesn't matter because Doyoung is coming seconds later over his fist and onto the carpet. He almost feels bad – it's a nice carpet – but it was Johnny's idea, so he can't find it in himself to apologize for it. Johnny comes when he does, Doyoung's muscles clenching around his cock enough to finally get him off, and then the room is borderline silent, sans Doyoung's heavy breaths.

“Jesus Christ,” Doyoung finally mutters, and Johnny pulls out of him. It's never a welcome feeling, but he doesn't complain, letting himself drop forward onto his stomach instead. The carpet rubbing against his face hurts almost too much, but he ignores it. Johnny stands up, almost shakily, to throw away the condom, and Doyoung wants to lay on his floor for the rest of the morning. He only moves when Johnny starts pulling his clothes back on, a signal that he should leave soon.

Doyoung stands to pull his boxers on, but before he can reach for his pants, Johnny grabs his arm. “You don't have to leave right away,” he offers, albeit looking a little unsure of himself. Doyoung feels for him – he couldn't count the number of awkward post-hookup conversations he's had on both hands. “It's hardly even ten. We could do brunch, or something.”

The concept is good in theory. Doyoung considers it, his gaze meeting Johnny's, and he knows they both feel the same way about it. “Next time,” he says, but it's actually a promise, and Johnny looks like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. Doyoung leans down to grab his pants and quickly pulls them on, buckling his belt and heading into the hallway to grab his forgotten shirt. Johnny leans against the wall and watches him put his clothes back on, and it feels almost too intimate, but he allows it.

“I'll message you,” Johnny says, and Doyoung bites his bottom lip nervously, checking for his phone in his pocket before he opens the door to leave.

“I'll respond.”


End file.
